Since returning to office in early 2025, the Trump administration has advanced several immigration and foreign-policy initiatives, including renewed travel bans and expanded enforcement by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). These policies include restrictions targeting countries such as Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, Iran, Somalia and more. These policies have drawn criticism from advocacy groups, lawmakers and legal experts who say they have created fear in immigrant communities, disrupted families and revived policies that courts and civil rights groups previously challenged. While the administration has defended the actions as necessary for national security and border control, opponents argue they place a disproportionate burden on vulnerable populations and offer little evidence of improved safety.
As of early 2026, the United States has imposed a full travel ban on Myanmar. According to the American Immigration Council, this policy halts most visa processing, refugee admissions and family-based travel, leaving many with approved or pending applications in indefinite limbo. While framed as a security measure, the ban disproportionately affects refugees and asylum-seekers who have already undergone extensive background checks.
For Perry Meridian High School, a school with over 30 percent of their population being immigrants and refugees from Myanmar nations, this travel ban has had an obvious effect. “A lot of Chin people came here as refugees and with this ban they’ve had to go a very long time without seeing their families,” junior Elyna Suihniang said. For Suihniang, these travel bans have affected her and her family. Her mother and father came to America when they were in their late teens and early twenties and they have had little time to visit. “They’ve always talked about wanting to go back, and we were going to go back this summer, but because of the ban it’s just kind of limiting so we can’t,” Suihniang said. It has been especially difficult for her mom who left her family when she was very young and has not seen her family for over twenty years. “She’s tried to bring her family over here, but it keeps getting canceled. So now that seeing them isn’t an option, it just makes me really sad. Like, I can’t even go a day without seeing my mom. I can’t imagine,” Suihniang said.
In addition, Suihniang’s brother has been affected by this ban. “My brother and my sister-in-law got married in 2021 and he’s been waiting to bring her to the US…he’s here and she’s there, and it’s very sad [be]cause they can’t see each other,” said Suihniang. It’s put a halt on their lives as they have now had to continue their relationship online and connect in that way. For families like Suihniang’s, the ban is not an abstract policy but a daily reminder of how government decisions can keep loved ones separated across continents.
But for many immigrant families, separation does not stop at international borders, as policies within the United States also threaten to tear families apart. New programs enforced by ICE, the federal agency tasked with immigration enforcement, have resulted in deportations that separate immigrant families already living in the United States. This has created a culture of fear, where families now worry that a run to the store or a traffic stop could permanently separate them.
For one Perry graduate, this fear has become a reality. An alumni who will be referred to as JT shared that two of her uncles living in Georgia were detained by ICE on Jan. 5, 2026, while driving to work after being stopped at a police checkpoint. “To continue on the road you have to be able to provide a license and my Uncle A doesn’t have a license. Uncle B does have a license but he couldn’t provide other documentation like a passport,” JT said. Both men, along with another individual in the car, were taken into custody and transported to the Stewart Detention Facility in Georgia. “Uncle B was able to call us pretty early on, I think like 12 a.m. but Uncle A didn’t call us until the next day, so we had absolutely no idea where he was,” JT said. During the detainment, Uncle A’s phone was broken and Uncle B’s wallet was lost, leaving the family with little information and growing fear.
Once inside the detention facility, the lack of communication only intensified that fear. “In the facility they don’t give you the time. I think it’s a mental thing but they don’t tell the people what time of day it is. Every time my uncles call they’d be like ‘What time is it?’ They won’t tell them,” JT said. Beyond the psychological strain, staying in contact with family also requires money, something many detainees cannot afford. Detainees have a commissary account and they need support from families and friends to be able to buy additional snacks and supplies. “I feel like they take advantage of the fact that a lot of people aren’t acquainted with the technology,” JT said, “We’ve had three separate people come up to us…and say ‘Hey can you put money in my loved ones account?’ because they physically can’t,” JT said.
To receive a call, family members must type a detainee’s last name into a keypad and listen through recordings of multiple people saying their names. “I put his [Uncle B’s] name in and it took me through a string of people. You could hear men and women saying their names into the phone, and it hurt,” JT said.
The list of people with the same last name is spoken as callers cycle through the names until they come across the person they are trying to reach. “You could feel the defeat in their voice,” JT said.
Uncle A and his now wife fled Honduras in 2011 and 2017 due to unsafe conditions and later met in Atlanta. “My uncle was being persecuted by gangs, so he was going to get killed and my aunt was being targeted by gang members as well for sexual reasons,” JT said. Additionally, Uncle B works in the United States to financially support his niece, who is currently battling cancer.
With both uncles now detained, JT’s family has been left in a constant state of fear and uncertainty. “My aunt is scared to go out. I have a sister that lives in Georgia, and she’s been doing her groceries for her. My aunt refuses to drive if it’s not to go to and from work,” JT said. Situations like this have reshaped daily life for many immigrant families, turning once-routine activities into sources of anxiety. “My aunt always loved going out, and I don’t like that that’s being taken away from her,” JT said. For JT’s family, the circumstances have stripped away not only freedom of movement, but a sense of normalcy and safety.
For some families, policy decisions translate directly into an absence at the dinner table.
